The Price of Immortality
by Cyanide-And-Strawberries
Summary: There are only two gods, that of creation and that of destruction. Two gods, and time. Oneshot, ShiroIchi, implied sexual relations and yaoi I dont think its worth an M rating but tell me if ya think otherwise CAS out


The world was still, and cold. There was no wind, there was no sound.

It seemed empty. Had there been life here once? A village, a city? Were there children and mothers, fathers and families, merchants and shopkeepers? I did not know. And that is the price of immortality. It stretches on forever. You think at first, 'I am nigh indestructible' but every year that passes you by wears you down. You miss the days where you could measure yourself, and see that you had changed- see yourself in the mirror, hair once-short now long. Your hair does not grow when you become immortal. You do not age. People do not take into account what immortality truly entails, what godhood is.  
However, within the unchanging façade of the world you have immersed yourself in, there is life. There is the thought of change, the possibility of it.  
I take a step, and flowers bloom around it. Grass begins to grow.  
As destruction has passed, so will creation come forth unto the wasteland left behind him.

Us gods, we circle each other. We cannot kill each other, for to do so would end in the unmaking of everything. So after many clashes, we sheathed our respective weapons and held hands instead. We bear scars still, from where we have hacked and slashed, screaming wordless rage. I wanted to reject his very existence.  
I step again, and saplings grow slowly, spiralling up. I laugh, and they burst out of the ground like magic. I dance, my bare feet twirling around the flowers. Leaves spread, a forest grows. Animals spiring out of the bark, wherever I touch there is life, and it is joyous and plentiful.

I stop, the sun hiding itself behind clouds. He is here. I turn, and he smiles at me, from where he is leaning against an oak, I can see the death spreading from his shoulder to the bark. Where he has walked, the grass is blackened and burnt. I scowl, a habit I have formed over the years, and go to pass him, seeking to restore the damage to my forest. He reaches out, brushing his hand against my bare arm, goose bumps trailing after his fingers. He is so pale. So very pale. His white hair is ghostly, and his features so like my own. All but his eyes. They glitter with malice, deep red surrounded by black, while mine are honey gold and kind.  
Where he travels and destroys, I follow and heal. That is the cycle. That is the meaning.

He steps closer to me, his dark leather cloak swishing quietly, and takes me in his arms. He presses his face into my orange hair, and I am hidden from sight, all but the slightest glimpse of my tan skin and green-gold kimono hidden away. I breathe deep, inhaling his unique scent- metallic, and strangely woody, he smells of eucalypt and blood.

There was once a time where I would have gagged and choked as if the scent was poison, but now I merely sigh and wrap my arms around him, returning the embrace.  
I pull slightly away, and look up at him. He smiles, the cruel smirk vanishing, an leans down to kiss me. His smell swirls around me, intoxicating and drugging me, and my eyes close as his tongue sweeps my mouth. He tastes like death, a taste I used to yearn for, wishing to escape my immortality.

He told me once I tasted like sunshine, and smelled like sweet fruit and honey. I smiled at him, and gave him a flower. When he took it, it withered and died. I held it also, and it came back to life pure black, and smelling of decay.

Our powers should cancel each other out, but they don't. I always expected it to burn when he touched me, and I expected my own touch to hurt him viciously, but it didn't. Instead he smiled, and his skin glowed, but when he touched me his smile fell and he looked sad. He never told me why, for at the time I did not see what happened to me.  
I know now. My skin goes pasty white, and my eyes turn a dark brown.

He said he couldn't bear the thought of me lifeless, it doesn't suit me, he said. He thought I should always be happy and golden. I told him I loved him, and we proved it there and then on the dead grass.

But that was so very long ago, it hardly matters now. He pulls back slightly, searching my eyes for acceptance when he knows that is all he will ever find. That and love. He smiles again, carding his fingers through my hair and kissing at my neck.

He lets me go soon after. 'you should go fix your forest.' He whispers it almost, like one would whisper a secret. He is gone soon after. I know I will see him once I have finished bringing life back to the barren place. It is our dance, our danse macabre, and I will see him once I have finished my steps.

And we will sleep on the stars and laugh at the moon before he goes to destroy another part of the world. Where goes destruction when creation is bringing life, and where does creation go when destruction is decimating all his work?  
He goes home, to await his lover, that is where.

And I Kurosaki Ichigo, will not disappoint my lover, Shirosaki Zangetsu.

We are the sun and moon, we are. Yin and yang- gods of everything but time.  
We cannot control time. We are merely immune to its effects.

And that is the price of immortality.


End file.
